i still see them (when i sleep)
by V. Sourweather
Summary: Hermione can still see them; it's all she can ask for, and if it's the end of her, then so be it. [Written for QLFC - Round 8]


_Summary:__ Hermione can still see them; it's all she can ask for, and if it's the end of her, then so be it._

_Rating:__ T_

_Warnings:__ References to psychological torture. Also, it's an AU, in the sense that Hermione couldn't be rescued from Malfoy Manor._

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own anything, because everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. I don't make any money out of this story._

_.:._

_Written for:_

_**[QLFC - Round 8]**_

_**Team:**__ Tutshill Tornadoes_

_**Position:**__ Keeper_

_**Prompt: **__High Priestess - Upright: Intuitive, Unconscious, Inner voice_

_Word count (without the A/N): 1,503 words_

* * *

_**i still see them (when i sleep): **_**Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy**

There were a lot of things Hermione Granger was scared of, but surprisingly, Draco Malfoy wasn't one of them. After everything they had been through together, he wasn't someone she should be afraid of.

She stared defiantly at Harry and Ron. She didn't understand why they couldn't accept the idea of the two of them being together (well, she did have an idea why Ron couldn't; he'd always been attracted to her, and he hadn't even tried to hide it). Ginny had understood. Luna and Neville too. Everyone else had, so _why couldn't they_?

"I don't—I don't get it, Hermione," Harry mumbled, and Ron nodded in agreement with his statement. "I thought you were intuitive. I thought you of all people would know that this—whatever it is that's between the two of you—will end badly. So I don't get it."

"I'm not asking you to _get it_," she retorted defensively. "This is my life, so it's my choice."

"And instead of spending your life with someone you know, you're choosing to spend it with a—with a stranger?" Ron asked her, his eyebrows rising on his forehead.

She'd always thought this expression made him look… kind of stupid, but she hadn't told him about it. Ever. Well… Now, she couldn't hold her tongue anymore.

"You should stop doing that with your eyebrows, Ron," she said mockingly, not caring that they would make yet another point in their argument about her relationship with Draco. "It just… doesn't suit you as much as it suits others."

The look of hurt on his face made her regret her own words barely two seconds after she said them.

"That… was unfair, Ron," she apologized. "And uncalled for… I'm sorry."

She was definitely surprised when Ron briefly nodded, looking at her straight in the eyes. He'd never been one to easily accept apologies, after all.

"We still need to understand why," Ron told her, his voice far calmer than it had been before (but she knew better—the storm in his eyes wasn't over yet).

She chose to be honest, and she let out the truth because it was all she could do. "Why? Because you _left me_, Ron! And that's on _you_ too, Harry! You left me behind in Malfoy Manor, and Draco was the only one there who helped me!"

She breathed deeply and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. It felt better now. Ever since she'd been back from the Manor (and away from Draco), she'd acted as though nothing had happened—as though everything was fine. Now that she'd finally emptied her heart out, she felt just… better. _Lighter. _But she hadn't finished yet..

"Do you know who they brought before me, who they killed in front of me just so that I would _speak_?" she asked, her voice breaking on the edges.

Harry's green eyes widened and he whispered the answer (of course he would understand before Ron; he, too, was an orphan). "Your parents."

She didn't nod. Tears just filled her eyes when she heard him say it, and they rolled down her cheeks. Unstoppable. She'd never cried for them before. She was still able to see them, to hear them in her mind, after all.

Now that her two best friends knew though… knew what had happened because of them… everything was different.

"I begged them not to do it. I begged Draco to stop them…" she confessed, fighting against her tears. "I told them that they didn't even remember me, that they were _innocent…_ As if that could stop them."

The bitter notes of her rant hung in the air for a few seconds, and then…

Harry's arms were around her, and it had been so long—_so_ long—since that had last happened that she couldn't help herself. She hid her face in Harry's neck and kept crying, and her fists curled in his shirt. And he apologized, again and again until both of their tears stopped falling.

And when he stepped away from her, he declared solemnly, "I think I can manage seeing the two of you together. And understanding why."

"Yeah. I think I can, too," Ron echoed.

She stared at them, trying to determine if they were actually telling her the truth, and when she realized that they _were_, a shadow of a smile formed on her lips.

"Thank you. Really."

Her words were so sincere that a smile appeared on Ron's face, and he let out a small laugh. "You're our best friend; how could we not? And I just want what's best for you… even if it includes me being just your friend."

She tried not to cringe after hearing those words. She tried not to think about her parents, but she did. And as always, her mother's voice rang through her head. _It wasn't their fault. Us dying and you staying there… It wasn't on them, and you know it, honey._ And she did.

* * *

"Mum? Dad? Are you there?" she called out desperately.

She had no idea her conversation with Harry and Ron would leave her so helpless, so… tired. All she wanted now was her parents' help, and to have that, she needed to be… well, unconscious. Dreaming, at least.

"We're here, sweetie. We're here," the comforting voice of her mother answered.

"Thank you for coming," Hermione sighed.

"We're your parents, Hermione. We will always come when you need us. Now, what is it that you wanted so desperately to ask?"

She paused before answering. She should be able to find that answer on her own. She shouldn't need another to tell her what to do. But she asked anyway, "Should I tell them about you… still being here? Or will they think I'm crazy?"

"Harry and Ron are your best friends. Of course you can tell them. You can tell them anything, and they will understand. See, you let them in on your not-so-secret-anymore relationship with Draco, and they… accept it. Or at least they're trying to."

"This is not the same thing, Da. You're _dead_. I shouldn't be able to talk to you, or even see you."

Her mother's laugh rang in her head. It was so melodious, and Hermione marveled at hearing it once more. She'd always loved her mother's laugh. So warm, so… alive. Even now, it almost felt as if her mother was standing by her side when really… She was just an illusion her subconscious had created.

"We're still here." Her mother smiled. "We promised you we would never leave you, Hermione."

Tears sprung up in her eyes and one, just one, fell down her cheek, but it was enough to wake her up. She wasn't unconscious anymore, and her parents were gone again.

"I hate it. _I hate that,_" she whispered.

"What do you—?" a voice she now knew by heart asked. And then Draco continued, "You did it again, didn't you?"

"I'm getting the chance to talk to them again. I can't—"

"I get it. Really, I do. But each and every time you do that and fall unconscious just to talk to them, you're getting weaker and weaker."

"So you're worried about me now, Malfoy?" she challenged.

He didn't answer but held her in his arms instead. He held her close, and she leaned on him for support.

"Don't be scared, Draco. I know what I'm doing."

"I can't really help it, Granger. I'm done being scared for you, I really am. I've been so scared ever since you were—"

"Shhh," she shushed him, placing a light finger on his lips. "I'm serious. You don't have to be scared for me. I know I'm not risking anything. Besides, if it weren't for my inner voice—_their voices_—I wouldn't be with you right now."

"And I'm grateful for that. But if the price of talking to them is getting weaker and weaker until you die, then I want you to stop."

She stared at him, her warm, brown eyes widening in disbelief and growing icy by the second.

"You can't dictate my life. I thought you'd know that by now."

"That was before you fell unconscious on our table. You always make it to the bed, or the couch, or _something_."

She shook her head. He didn't get it. It was just the tiredness that overcame her after her conversation with her two best friends. It wasn't the—

Her knees wobbled as she staggered away from him, and she frowned. What was _that_ again?

Draco walked slowly closer to her, his icy eyes scanning her. He grunted and then asked her bitterly, "And you still want me to believe that you're fine?"

She stabilized herself and then grabbed her purse, barely opening her mouth to seethe, "I'm going for a walk. And don't follow me."

But now she could see it. He definitely _was_ right. This would be the end of her, and if it was… Well if it was, her end would be happy.


End file.
